


That's No Way To Say Goodbye

by ruric



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Character Death Fix, Community: slashthedrabble, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-01
Updated: 2005-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-07 20:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to 5:22 - Not Fade Away; a "fix-it" for this particular scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's No Way To Say Goodbye

"You know what you're asking me to do?" his voice cracked unable to mask shock at the enormity of the betrayal.

"It's the only way – and that's why I'm _asking_ and not ordering."

He watched Angel closely – looked deep into his eyes, examined every inch of his face – listened and replayed the inflection on each word. If there had been any indication of doubt he would have refused. 

But all he saw - in the brown eyes and shadows beneath, in the set of the chin, the furrowed brow, and the harshly draw lines around Angel's mouth - was a grim determination to see this through to the end.

* * * * * * * 

Lorne stood, in a room filled with the reek of demon blood, a gun in his trembling hands and pulled the trigger. 

Twice.

A few gasped words and the demon turned, dropped the gun and left, closing the door behind him.

The silence of the ozone filled room was shattered by a harshly broken gasp.

Jagged shards of agony pierced lungs that felt as if they were imploding for lack of air. He sucked in another half breath, glad that he'd fallen with the wall behind him, because movement was not possible. All he could do, for a few precious minutes, was to lie there and try to breathe – hoping the searing pain in chest and stomach painting his vision red, would tamp down to manageable levels.

But the pain didn't want to co-operate and he had no time to waste.

Levering himself upright, he yanked the bloodstained shirt open. The bullet holes, one over his heart (who the Hell had known Lorne was such an accurate shot?) one in his belly, were still oozing blood - but red and gold glyphs writhed under his skin. He sucked in another breath, muttered a couple of hasty words, praying to anything that might be listening that he'd got the inflection right, and watched as the bullets edged backwards out of his skin.

His fingers fumbled in the shirt pocket, withdrawing a small ornate silver jar. He yanked the cork out with his teeth. Finesse wasn't important – speed was. His trembling hand tipped the jar and sulphur yellow power drifted down to cover the wounds. Another muttered incantation and the glyphs coalesced around the wounds, sending him spinning towards nausea as his depth perception failed.

The cloud of acrid purple smoke boiled upwards, making his eyes water and the sudden hit of acid at the back of his throat was an unwelcome added bonus.

But it worked. Skin slid back together, lungs expanded, and his body shook with a sudden fizz of energy which masked the pain. Just went to prove that the best money could buy was sometimes good enough. He struggled to his feet and headed out of the room. After all – he had someplace to be.

* * * * * * * 

In ends in a dank alley with four backs facing him.

"You gonna start without me boys?"

Angel turns and his wolfish grin is enough of a welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> Writte for the "sight" prompt on the LJ community [slashthedrabble](http://slashthedrabble.livejournal.com/).


End file.
